Sunshine and Showers

by June Francis

  ‘Fancy you knowing that,’ said Jimmy.

  ‘I like this place so I’m interested,’ said Kathleen. ‘I’m doing something I like and Mrs Bennett encourages me to think for meself and have the courage of me convictions. You still want to be an engine driver?’

  ‘Yes, but I don’t think it’s going to be easy,’ he said gloomily.

  ‘You stick by your guns,’ said Kathleen, ‘you never know what’s round the corner.’

  Patsy said, ‘I was wondering if you could make me a couple of frocks. Say by the end of the month.’

  Kathleen’s eyebrows shot up. ‘That’s short notice. Is it for something special?’

  ‘I want to make more of myself.’

  ‘Who are you trying to impress?’

  ‘None of your business.’

  Kathleen grinned. ‘It wouldn’t be Greg, the dark-haired one with the blue eyes and the motorbike?’

  ‘I’m saying nothing. Will you do it?’

  ‘Make you a couple of frocks? Of course. If it weren’t for you buying me that second-hand frock and us being invited to the wedding and Mrs Bennett spotting my embroidery, then I wouldn’t be here now. As well as that I never repaid you the fare to get here,’ said Kathleen. ‘I’ll take your measurements when we reach the house.’

  Patsy was surprised and pleased by her sister’s reaction and told her so. It was pleasant strolling through the park and the two sisters discussed colours, fabric and style as the children ran ahead. Patsy had told them to stop when they reached the river and they did as instructed. It really was as lovely as her sister had told her. The sun sparkled on the surface of the water and from a bandstand came the sound of brass instruments being played.

  Kathleen led the way to Queens Park footbridge and stopped them all halfway to gaze down at the trippers in their rowing boats. The others piled up alongside her. Suddenly Kathleen said, ‘There’s Chris Davies. I wonder what he’s doing fishing on a working day.’ She looked at Jimmy. ‘This could be a heaven-sent opportunity. He works in the railway engineering yard and his dad is an engine driver. Would you like to meet Chris?’

  ‘Too right, I would,’ he said eagerly.

  ‘You don’t think he’s skiving, do you?’ whispered Patsy. ‘Because if so, then he won’t want you letting on to him.’

  Kathleen said, ‘Don’t be daft, Patsy! He’s not going to be skiving if he’s in full view of anyone crossing the bridge.’

  ‘True,’ said Patsy. ‘I wasn’t thinking.’

  They all trailed after Kathleen down the other side of the bridge and along the riverbank. Patsy and the children stopped a few yards away from Chris but Kathleen went right up to him.

  Without looking up, he said, ‘Before you ask… I dropped a wrench on my foot. I’ve broken a couple of toes and can’t be doing with standing in the workshop for long.’

  ‘Poor you,’ said Kathleen in a caressing voice, kneeling on the bank beside him. ‘How did you get here if you’re having trouble with your foot?’

  He flashed her a grin. ‘Ma and one of my brothers brought me on a handcart. She said the fresh air would do me good.’

  ‘Do you think you’ll catch any fish?’

  ‘Doesn’t matter if I do or not. It’s dead peaceful sitting here and watching the world go by.’

  Patsy gave Jimmy a little shove. ‘Go and ask Chris about what his father does,’ she whispered.

  Jimmy drew closer to Kathleen and nudged her. She nodded. ‘Chris, this is my brother, Jimmy. He’s mad about train engines and he’ll be looking for a job in a few months. Do you think your father could help him get started?’

  Chris glanced up at Jimmy. ‘He’ll need a bit more muscle on him and it’s a tough apprenticeship. You start in the engineering yard helping to clean the engines and crack coal. It can take fifteen years before you’re considered good enough to drive an engine unsupervised.’

  ‘I’m not scared of hard work,’ said Jimmy, squaring his shoulders. ‘Could you tell me more about what I’d have to do?’

  ‘Sure. Sit down.’

  Kathleen bent over Chris and brushed her lips against his cheek. ‘You’re not a bad bloke.’

  Chris reddened. ‘Get away with you, girlie.’

  Nelson moved closer. ‘How about fishing?’

  Chris looked at him. ‘What about it?’

  ‘Never done it.’

  Chris sighed and handed over the hand line. Kathleen and Patsy exchanged looks and winked. Then Patsy took a package from her shopping bag and placed it on the grass. ‘Your butties are in there, lads. Behave yourselves and don’t go falling in the river.’

  Nelson and Jimmy nodded absently without looking up. Kathleen led the way to Victoria Crescent. Patsy decided not to bombard her with questions about Chris. If Kathy was set on having a future in the clothing industry, then she was not going to get silly over him. Kathleen had a key and opened the front door. She led them through the house to the kitchen and was about to fling open the door to the garden when she heard laughter coming from the drawing room. She exchanged looks with her sister. ‘Best go and look,’ said Kathleen.

  Patsy accompanied her.

  Kathleen flung open the drawing room door with a ‘What’s going on in here?’

  Flora was sitting on the sofa with a young man stretched out on it with his head in her lap. Her face turned rosy when she saw them. ‘What are you doing here, Kathy? Why aren’t you at the shop?’

  ‘Your mother sent me here. I’m sure she’d be shocked to see what you’re up to,’ said Kathleen.

  Flora dug her elbow in the young man’s shoulder and hissed, ‘Get up!’ He did not move instantly and she poked him again before turning to Kathleen and ordering her out.

  ‘I’ll move, Miss Flora,’ said Kathleen, ‘once he’s gone.’

  The young man eyed Kathleen with interest. ‘Who are you?’

  ‘None of your business,’ she answered sharply. ‘Get yourself out of here.’

  ‘You’ve no right to speak to my guest like that,’ said Flora, her cheeks even redder than a few moments ago.

  ‘Don’t worry about it, Flossy,’ said the young man ‘I probably won’t see you at the rally. You’ll have to find yourself someone else.’ He left through the french windows.

  ‘Now see what you’ve done!’ cried Flora, enraged and almost in tears. ‘It’s taken me weeks to get him interested in our cause and now you’ve gone and spoilt it all.’

  ‘What cause is that, Miss Flora?’ asked Kathleen politely.

  ‘None of your bloody business. No doubt you’ll tell Mum what you saw and that will be an end to it.’ Flora folded her arms and walked over to the open french windows and stared out.

  ‘I’m not a clat-tailed tit whatever you might think of me,’ said Kathleen. ‘But you’re certainly looking for trouble bringing young men into the house when there’s no one here to hear you if you were to cry for help. Besides, he’s far too old for you.’

  ‘And you’d know about that,’ yelled Flora, ‘making eyes at my father.’ She stormed out into the garden.

  Patsy stared at her sister. ‘What was all that about?’

  Kathleen shrugged. ‘It was true that when I first came here I really fussed over Mr Bennett but I soon realised I was making an exhibition of myself and all I really wanted was for him to like me and to treat me with respect. I’ve got that now because I’m prepared to work and do what Mrs Bennett tells me. But Flora’s spoilt and jealous of me. She’s not prepared to work and really doesn’t know what she wants to do. She’s supposed to be studying for some exam not entertaining the opposite sex.’

  ‘You’re right about that,’ said Patsy. ‘Hopefully she will have learnt her lesson with us coming in on her.’

  ‘I really like Mr and Mrs Bennett and I don’t want them upset.’ Kathleen sighed. ‘Right, let’s go and get something to eat.’

  Patsy and the girls left an hour later with Kathleen after the latter had taken her sister’s measurements. They
fetched the boys from the riverbank. Kathleen exchanged a few words with Chris Davies before heading for the bridge. There was a parting of the ways outside the shop and money exchanged hands. Kathleen promised to do her best to have the two dresses for her sister ready within the month.

  ‘I’ll bring them over,’ she called.

  Patsy raised a hand in acknowledgement and, gathering her flock together, headed towards the railway station. She hoped the children had found their day as interesting as she had done. At least they had all got on all right together which was promising. The memory of what Flora and Kathleen had said to each other remained with her and she was curious about what might be the outcome of that scene back at the Bennetts’ house.

  * * *

  It was to be August before Patsy had a visit from her sister.

  Kathleen placed a brown-paper parcel on the dining room table. ‘There are your dresses. I hope all goes well with the boyfriend?’

  Patsy smiled and began to unwrap the parcel. ‘So how are things in Chester?’

  ‘Big kerfuffle at the Bennett household. A couple of days after you left Flora went off without telling her mam and dad where she was going. They were frantic with worry.’

  Patsy’s hands paused in their task. ‘I presume she’s been found. Was she on her own or was she with someone?’

  ‘She’s not saying anything in front of me but she keeps crying. Mr and Mrs Bennett were at their wits’ end with her. You wouldn’t believe it, would you? She has a home and parents you and I would have died for when we were kids but she’s unhappy.’

  ‘So what’s going to happen?’ Just like her sister Patsy could not understand Flora’s actions.

  ‘They’re going to get her out of the way for a while.’ Kathleen paused ‘You know where they’re going to send her?’

  ‘Where?’

  ‘To stay with Joy Bennett.’

  For a moment Patsy did not say anything and then she smiled. ‘Now, Kath, there’s a real example of families helping each other. She won’t get her own way with Joy and at least she’ll be company for her with Wendy and Grant being away.’

  ‘I think the idea is that she helps take care of Joy’s little boy. He’ll soon be getting to that age when he’s a handful.’ Kathleen added grudgingly, ‘Flora’s quite good with kids. I’ve seen her with her younger brother, the Kirks’ little boy and the Moran twins and she knows how to entertain them and keep them in order.’

  ‘Well, that’s a tick in her favour,’ said Patsy.

  ‘She was right miserable, though, when she was leaving.’ Kathleen grinned. ‘My life is going to be a lot easier without her around. So are you going to try these frocks on? You want to knock Greg dead when he sees you dressed fashionable for a change, don’t you?’

  Patsy smiled. ‘I’d rather have him alive.’

  The frocks fitted perfectly and, as Patsy did a twirl for her sister, she could not help remembering that evening when Mrs Tanner had come in from the sales and made her alter one of the dresses for the dance competition. It was over eighteen months ago now but seemed longer. At least David Tanner seemed to be much more content and Patsy wondered if that could have anything to do with him seeing more of Joy Bennett. She thought of Flora and hoped she would not get in the way of any love affhir that might develop between them.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  ‘There’s been an explosion in that new tunnel they’re building under the Mersey. What d’you think of this here tunnel they’re digging?’

  David looked up from sawing a log and at the man gazing over the fence. ‘It’s a huge undertaking but will be worth it when it’s done,’ he said. ‘It will save a lot of congestion down by the docks.’

  The man nodded. ‘It’s been bad down there as long as I can remember. But with more motor lorries and cars on the road using the tunnel once it’s finished, it’ll mean less ferry boats and that’ll put men out of work.’

  ‘That’s progress for you,’ said David, taking a breather. ‘Once upon a time houses were lit with candles or oil lamps. Now we’ve gas and electricity.’

  ‘Mrs Bennett has electricity but not on the top floor where I live.’ He paused. ‘Will you be paying to have electricity put in?’

  ‘Yes. With winter on its way, I’m thinking of having electric fires in several of the rooms.’ David resumed his sawing, only to be interrupted again.

  ‘That’s a smashing lot of wood you’ve got there.’

  David paused. ‘I had to cut a tree down. It was growing too close to the house and a client of mine advised me to have it chopped down and the roots dug up. They could cause trouble with the drains, you see.’

  ‘Makes sense. But the wood, now, will you be using all of it or could you spare some odd little lengths?’

  David eased his back and flexed his fingers. ‘Sure. But if you were thinking of using them for firewood you’d need to dry them out first. You could ask Mrs Bennett if she would like some logs to store for use in the new year.’

  The man smiled. ‘Sure, I’ll ask her.’

  ‘You must be Mr Donavan. I like your carving of Rex. It’s a good likeness. You’ve talent.’

  ‘It’s not bad,’ said Donavan, looking pleased. ‘So can you spare me any odd bits of wood?’

  ‘Why don’t you come round and choose your own? You’ll know what you want.’

  William’s craggy face lit up and then he vanished.

  David remembered that he had a few bottles of beer in the kitchen and, as the weather was unseasonably mild for autumn and he had worked up a sweat, he decided to break open a couple. He went into the kitchen and soon heard a man’s heavy tread outside. He called Donavan in and introduced himself. ‘I’m David Tanner.’

  Donavan shook his hand vigorously. ‘I’ve heard about you. You’re a solicitor and you bought the house off the rogue who beat it to America.’

  ‘So Mrs Bennett told you that.’ David would rather that Joy had not spoken to this man about what he considered a private matter.

  ‘Not in so many words,’ Donavan surprised him by saying. ‘When I first came here, she mentioned about there being a bit of scandal attached to the owner of the house next door but it was Grant Simpson who told me the rest before he went off to America in search of that missing relative of yours.’

  David was relieved to know that he had misjudged Joy. ‘The problem arises when people don’t want to be found.’

  ‘That’s true enough,’ Donavan said heavily. ‘I could tell you something about such men and give you reasons why they choose to disappear. Mind you, if I were this – Rodney Smith, is it?’ David nodded and Donavan continued. ‘If I were him and discovered that I had a house and money left to me, I’d get myself found pretty damn quick. As it is…’ he shrugged. ‘There’s always a price to pay if one decides to go missing because a man has to give up some things he would rather not.’

  Donavan’s words intrigued David. ‘Beer, Mr Donavan?’

  His face lit up. ‘I wouldn’t say no. Can I have a look at the wood first, if you don’t mind?’

  ‘Help yourself,’ said David, and left him to it.

  When David went outside he found the other man sitting on one of the logs, his fingers searching a twisted length of branch. He glanced up. ‘Can I have this?’

  ‘Sure. Take what you want.’

  Donavan thanked him and placed the branch across his lap and reached for the bottle David held out to him. ‘When are you hoping to move in?’

  ‘Depends on how the work goes. Besides, I’m needed where I am at the moment, so I’m not in a rush.’

  ‘Good luck to you,’ said Donavan, raising his glass.

  They drank in silence until roused by a robin foraging in the soil and then flying off with a worm dangling from its beak.

  ‘That’s the way to get a meal,’ said Donavan, pointing at the bird. ‘I used to be a ship’s cook. Bloody hard work.’

  ‘I thought you’d been in the trenches,’ said David.

 
; ‘No, sailor. I now work in a hotel kitchen,’ said Donavan. ‘Still bloody hard work but at least the floor doesn’t shift.’

  ‘Is that what made you give up the sea?’

  ‘That and the war.’ Donavan drained the bottle and placed it on the ground. ‘The war did for a lot of bloody things.’ His expression was moody and his eyelid twitched.

  David asked, ‘Another beer?’

  ‘Thanks.’

  David went inside and when he came out found Donavan still sitting on the log, gazing into space. He nudged his shoulder and Donavan started.

  ‘You OK?’ asked David.

  ‘Just remembering.’ He took the bottle.

  David was not as surprised by the bleakness in his eyes as some might be. ‘Your war a bad one?’

  ‘You could say that, although some things had gone bad before then. Only I didn’t realise it straight away.’ He lifted the bottle to his mouth and drank.

  ‘Am I right in guessing you were born in Ireland?’

  ‘That’s right,’ said Donavan, nodding jerkily. ‘Only a kid when Ma and Pa brought us over here. We moved in with Pa’s brother near Scotty Road but I got into bad company, so the long and short of it was that I ended up on a training ship for delinquent boys and became a sailor. I learnt my lesson and kept my nose clean after that.’

  ‘So were you on the Atlantic run during the war?’

  Donavan’s hand trembled and his eyelid quivered. ‘Torpedoed once,’ he said hoarsely. ‘All that I went through and then when I got home I found her—’ He stopped abruptly and gulped down the rest of the beer.

  ‘Sorry,’ said David in a low voice. ‘I shouldn’t have pried.’

  ‘It’s OK. You weren’t to know. How was your war? I notice you’ve got a limp.’

  David’s throat tightened but he forced himself to answer the question. ‘I was a dispatch rider and a fuel tank exploded beneath me.’

  ‘Bloody hell! That must have been nasty!’ Donavan stared at him with pity in his eyes.

  David took a mouthful of beer. ‘Rather not go into details of my injuries. Sufficient to say that at least I didn’t land on my head. You’d be surprised at how many motorcyclists were killed by head injuries during the war.’ David managed a smile. ‘At least we’re both here to tell the tale.’